Harry Potter: High Iron Content
by Of Questionable Veracity
Summary: Following Voldermort's return, Harry finds himself desperate for ways in which to counter him. He finds a book, and things perhaps go a little downhill from there. It's nonsense, and likely poorly written, but the idea amused me and so here we are.


There were times when it was easy to forget just how big Hogwarts actually was.

Day-to-day, if you just went to your lessons, the Great Hall for meals and then straight back to whichever common-room you called home you'd only ever see a fraction of it. Stray even a little off the beaten track and you would very quickly find out there was much, much more that most people had long forgotten about.

Ron and Hermione were remembering this. Everything had been familiar up until they'd taken a left turn that they had always just walked past before and now everything was new and - frankly - a little bit unfriendly. Shadows seemed deeper and darker, walls seemed closer in and to Ron's immense lack of delight the spider population seemed to increase dramatically with every corner they turned

"Are you sure he's this way?" Hermione asked, clinging to Ron's shoulder. He noticed her doing this, which in turn made her notice. Looking a little sheepish she stopped but didn't move much further away from him, either.

Ron checked the map again. He hoped that he'd been wrong, even if it would be painful to admit it. His plans for the day had not involved going into dank, spooky parts of the castle. Ideally he would have been somewhere warm and nothing would be wrong. But the map said what it said and there wasn't really much choice. Ron sulked.

"It's what the map says," he said, pointing. Hermione peered at it and sighed.

"Well at least it's not far," she said. Ever the optimist. They pressed on in silence.

By the time they actually got to where it was they were meant to be both of them were quite thoroughly lost, though neither would admit it. And that was with them holding a map, so this was a level of lost that neither of them had previously encountered. Getting back was going to be almost as much fun as getting there. They'd work that part out later. Standing in front of a heavy, plain door at the end of a dim corridor they exchanged nervous glances.

"Do we knock?" asked Ron.

"Just open it!" Hermione hissed, conscious to keep her voice down and unconscious of how she shifted behind him as he inched closer to the door. Ron sighed and stepped up.

The handle was warm to the touch, which Ron thought was maybe a little odd, but it didn't slow him down much. He had to put a bit of effort into opening it and needed both hands in the end though and the door clunked loudly as it swung open which made both of them wince. A blast of hot air hit them both with enough force to actually stop them in place for a moment.

"Hello?" Ron asked, peering into the room. He could see nothing. Neither could Hermione. The door swung into the wall with a bang and they jumped and there was still nothing. They had already started sweating.

"We're going to have to go in there, aren't we?" Ron asked in a tiny voice. Hermione just gripped his arm more tightly. Swallowing, he took a step inside.

The room was stifling. At first neither of them could see anything of it beyond vague, dark shapes. The deeper in they got though and the more their eyes adjusted the more details they were able to make out. Anvils? That didn't sound right. They moved closer to investigate and someone popped up beside them.

"Hi guys!"

Harry appeared so loudly and so suddenly that both of them very nearly jumped out of their skins. How he looked did not help at all, and being stripped to the waist was only the start.

It was clear he hadn't bathed or slept in days. His hair was even messier than usual, matted to his head with sweat and grease, grime streaking his face, eyes sunken and shadowed. He was walking towards them with a limp and there was a darkly-stained bandage wrapped around his left hand. Despite all this, he looked happier than either of them had seen him looking in months.

"You won't believe what I found! It's amazing!" He said, moving back off into the gloom again, weaving around workbenches and anvils and ducking under hanging chains. Ron and Hermione followed as best they could, still stumbling in the darkness and sweating in the heat.

"You know, uh, Harry we're getting a bit worried about you…" Ron said.

"You sort of disappeared and no-one really knew what it was you were doing…" Hermione added, stepping over something she couldn't really make out and was rather glad she couldn't.

"Oh I've been looking for solutions," Harry said breezily. The way he moved through the room suggested he could probably have done it in the dark with his closed for good measure. The further into the room they got the hotter it got, a soft glow visible at the far end, throwing Harry into silhouette as he stopped in front of another workbench.

Now able to see, Ron and Hermione watched mutely as Harry started flicking through the hefty book that lay open amidst a sweep of discarded pliers and hammers and what looked curiously like metal shavings.

"Solutions?" Hermione probed, delicately. Harry laughed but did not look up.

"Solutions, yes! To the problem, you see? The Voldermort problem. A significant problem! I didn't really know what I was looking for at first - just about anything, really - but oh I found it, I really found it," he said, adjusting his glasses and leaning in closer to the pages.

"Yes! Yes, come, look," he said, spinning the book around and knocking a few things to the floor but not seeming to notice or care. His friends shuffled closer and bent down, squinting in the gloom and scanning the page quietly for a moment or two. They weren't entirely sure what they were meant to be looking for, but quickly worked out that was the least of their problems.

"What language is this?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, I can't read it. But when look I at it I just...know what it's trying to tell me, you know? Like I can feel it, like I've learnt it and am just remembering it. I can understand it but I can't understand it. It's hard to describe," Harry said, running a hand back through his hair and somehow making it even messier.

Hermione did not reply, eyes drawn inexorably back to the book as she picked it up and started leafing through it without a word. Harry just grinned, which left Ron at a bit of a loose end.

"So...a solution?"

"Yes! Like nothing I've seen. The book has shown me...a vision. A perfect vision. It's shown me what we need and what we need to do to make it work. So that's what I've been doing. Ah! Let me show you something…" Harry said, dashing off to the side and leaving Ron standing on his todd, Hermione frowning and mouthing words that had no right to be in her mouth.

A moment or two later Harry returned, cradling something that he then placed in front of Ron. He set it on end and stood back so it could easily be seen and Ron saw to his surprise that it was, in fact, an arm. A metal arm, like that of a statue but cast from looked to be solid iron.

"Uh…" Ron said, not really sure what he was supposed to say about this.

"Touch it!" Harry said, smiling. Ron licked his lips and looked at the iron hand, glancing up to Hermione for direction only to see she that she looked about as confused and scared as he felt. He licked his lips again, tasting the sweat that ran down his face in the sweltering, oppressive heat.

"TOUCH IT!" Harry all-but screeched. Even Hermone jumped, though she didn't stop reading. Ron couldn't really do anything else at this point as he wasn't getting any backup and, swallowing, he gingerly reached out and prodded the arm.

It wasn't cold, which was wasn't a huge surprise given the furnace-heat of the room, but it was far, far warmer than metal had any right to be. There was also something to it that he couldn't explain. Unable to stop his curiosity he gave it a squeeze and found it hard, but yielding. It made him think of flesh. Hard, metal flesh. Nothing should have felt like that.

"What is this?" Ron asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Harry had to suppress a giggle.

"Living Iron, Ron! Living Iron! Iron that breathes! Iron with a living essence! It is possible!" Harry said, starting to laugh again. He murmured a few words under his breath and flexed his hand and the metal one moved in sympathy, mirroring his movements perfectly. Ron's own hand snapped back instantly.

"I infused it with my own blood. Blood is the key, you see? Blood is life, vitality. Blood is what turns it from cold, lifeless metal to Living Iron. My blood, my will, my essence - it obeys me," he said, smiling, eyes wide. Ron took a step back, looking aghast from the metal arm, to Harry, to Hermione and then switching back and forth between them, unsure which to be most worried about.

"Blood, you see? Blood. It was my blood that brought him back - only fitting that it should help take him out of the world again," Harry said, grabbing Ron by the wrist and pulling him to the side. Ron yelped, but could do little else but allow himself to be led off towards a large object covered by a dust sheet.

"This is the first," Harry said, gripping Ron hard enough to bruise with one hand while ripping away the sheet with the other, revealing a crudely-forged humanoid figure hanging from thick chains riveted firmly into the ceiling.

"You made that?" Ron asked, eyes wide. Harry nodded so enthusiastically he nearly lost his glasses.

"The first one! Just think of it! An army of these iron soldiers! All obeying my commands without question or hesitation! The perfect weapon to secure lasting peace - to end this war before it's even started!"

Harry deflated a little after this outburst, the smile melting from his face and his hand dropping from Ron's wrist. He looked at the resting form of the iron man and trailed a finger across it, shoulders slumping.

"They laughed at me, I know. They're still laughing. Say that I'm making it all up, that he's not really back. I'll show them. I'll save them all and then they'll see. My iron children will make us all safe, they'll see."

Harry was quiet following this. Ron swallowed again. This was one of those moments where you had to pick your words carefully. Hermione would probably have known what to say but she was still reading the book back behind him and was no help.

"I don't want to, you know, piss all over your hard work or anything but Harry you should probably go outside for a bit or maybe eat something?" Ron suggested. Harry did not move, and Ron got the distinct impression that he'd put his foot in it. Then Harry chuckled, turning around.

"You're right. I'll be no use to my children if I don't take care of myself, will I? We should go have something to eat. Uh, what time is it? Is it lunchtime or dinnertime or breakfast or what?"

Ron decided to let the bit about the children slide for now, it was unlikely making a fuss about it would help much anyway. He'd ask Hermione about and they could deal with it later.

"Little after breakfast but it's the weekend so brunch is an option," Ron said. Harry nodded.

"Alright," he said, squatting down to pick the sheet up and covering the iron man again. Ron had the distinct and uncomfortable impression of its chest rising and falling beneath the sheet but put it down to being a trick of the light.

"You should probably have a shower first or something, too," Ron suggested as tactfully as he could. Harry paused, looking down at himself but apparently seeing nothing wrong.

"I should?" He asked.

"You should," Ron said, adamant about this. He'd later also suggest Harry might want to put a shirt on but all things in time. Harry grinned again.

"You're the boss! Lead on," he said, gesturing. Ron moved back to Hermione and put a hand on her shoulder, making her jump. She looked rather pale.

"We're going. Harry's going to have a wash and we can all have some food," Ron said to which Hermione muttered something incomprehensible and inaudible. Ron paused, peering at her a little closer.

"Hermione your eyes are bleeding," he said.

"The metal lives," she said, a smile spreading across her face.

Ron had the distinct impression this was the start of a very long day.


End file.
